I am from classroom
I am from superintendent and counselor
I am from the black burnt lines on grilled brussel sprouts
(crunchy, peppery,it sounded like a Sharpie pen screeching against paper)
I am from the dirt road which were stepped on
I am from the sweat dripping down your cheek
Who's rocks on the road were sharp and rugged
As if i were to cut my feet on the edges
I am from brown beans with rice and coffee with sweet milk
From the puppy who bit me to my adopted friend
To the heel I lost during a performance
I am from that painting painted over with blood
From the screaming lost faces I don't remember
as the cruel world takes our history and erases it from our textbooks.
I am from superintendent and counselor
I am from the black burnt lines on grilled brussel sprouts
(crunchy, peppery,it sounded like a Sharpie pen screeching against paper)
I am from the dirt road which were stepped on
I am from the sweat dripping down your cheek
Who's rocks on the road were sharp and rugged
As if i were to cut my feet on the edges
I am from brown beans with rice and coffee with sweet milk
From the puppy who bit me to my adopted friend
To the heel I lost during a performance
I am from that painting painted over with blood
From the screaming lost faces I don't remember
as the cruel world takes our history and erases it from our textbooks.
BY: The Nobel Naolin